Boldog születésnapot
by CrystalLotus98
Summary: "Shut up and take your present before I hit you."  Elizaveta's original plan was to go over to Gilbert's, wish him a happy birthday, give him his gift and go home. But wait, this was Prussia, the master of messing up Elizaveta's plans.  PrussiaxHungary


**Yay, I'm kinda-sorta over my writers block! And it only took me several weeks! So, this is the first time I've actually finish a story like this on time, and it's for my favorite character's birthday! And here's an even bigger shock: it's NOT PrussiaxAustria (dun-dun-duuuuh!)**

**So, yeah, enjoy~**

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If there was anywhere else in the world Elizaveta would want to be, in front of the Beilschmidt household was far from one of those places. Of course, she had no problem with the younger of the two residents (she had helped _raise_ the man during his seemingly forgotten childhood), and she _definitely_ didn't have any problems if Feliciano was visiting the siblings, -since she took up the chance for a picture whenever she could- her problem was with the older of the German siblings; Gilbert. The albino man infuriated her to no end with his constant taunting of Roderich and attempts to get into her panties (both of these incidents ended with Ludwig having to pick up his brother after Gilbert received one frying pan or three to the head) but… it _was_ Gilbert's birthday. It was better to see him _before_ he went out with Francis and Antonio and got horribly drunk. The Hungarian took a calming sigh and lifted a slender hand to rap on the door, adjusting the parcel under her arm as she waited for someone to answer the door.

A few seconds passed and still nothing. Elizaveta frowned and rang the doorbell, earning the sound of something heavy hitting the floor, followed by a mix stream of what the sandy brunette assumed was curses in slurred German and French. About a half a minute later, the front door open revealing Gilbert Beilschmidt, looking like he had just woken up. Silver-white hair was, amazingly enough, messier than usual, and while the man always slouched the way he leaned against the door frame on one arm and looked blankly at the woman definitely signified drowsiness. Gilbert's poor posture was the least of Elizaveta worries at the moment, no it was the fact the albino was standing before her with _no shirt on_. The lean, pale and yet muscled chest proudly exposed to the world, littered with scars from swords and bullets and a few small burns. For the record, Elizaveta wasn't staring. Nope. Nu-uh. Never.

"Hungary, what are you doing here?" Gilbert asked once his brain finally came up to speed with what he was seeing. The sandy-brunette cleared her throat and held out the parcel to the albino. It was a simple affair; a white box tied with a black ribbon, nothing extravagant about it. Why waste the time and effort she usually reserved for Roderich on _Prussia_ of all people.

"Happy birthday, Prussia." Hungary said simply, feeling her irritation grow when the albino simply stared at the box, then up to look at her dead in the eye.

"I'm not going to take this unless you come inside." Gilbert said, Elizaveta felt her eyebrow twitch in irritation.

"Why not?" She forced out, the smile she had put on starting to falter at the corners.

"Because you're letting all the warm air out, and you look like a goddamn nut-job standing out here in the cold holding out a present to me." The silverette replied with a grin, moving aside to let the woman walk in. "Come on, even though you're a boy-love crazed, frying pan wielding stalker bitch, I'm being generous enough to let you into my house. So are you coming in or not?"

At that moment in time, hitting Gilbert upside the head with her frying pan seemed like a good idea. A very, _very_ good idea. Although she could admit that it was awfully cold for a mid-January day, and walked within the threshold with a mumbled thank-you to the man. Inside was pleasantly warm and comfortable compared to outside, no doubt kept at the perfect temperature by Ludwig (the thermostat was probably kept under lock and key so Gilbert wouldn't turn the heater up any higher than needed), the house was kept orderly, almost unnaturally so with spotless walls and floors. But that was what Gilbert was for; making a mess so the interior remained even a little safe from the German's insane cleaning habits. "Sooooo, can I have my present now?" Gilbert asked, closing the front door and reaching out towards the box, Elizaveta moving it out of his reach before he could even touch the ribbon.

"Go put a shirt on first."

"Why should I? You know you _love_ this view, Lizzie-Liz~" Gilbert sang boastfully, waving a hand down his torso, Cheshire cat grin never once leaving his face.

"No. I don't. Go put a shirt on." The sandy-brunette said icily, turning swiftly on her feel and making a brisk walk towards the living room, plopping herself down on the off-white colored sofa in the most un-ladylike manner. Something about being around the infuriating man brought out that side of her; the wild-child, tomboy side that would much rather ride horses than listen to a sonata.

The Hungarian sighed lightly and ran a hand through her hair, mindful of the placement of Lake Balaton, it figured that Gilbert would be a pompous ass even though she went through all the trouble to buy him a present and travel all the way from Budapest. Emerald colored eyes shifted over to the gift at her side, eyes narrowing when a pale hand creeped towards the bow tied on top. The Hungarian looked over her left shoulder and glared at the fine-skinned man, who was sitting on his knees behind the couch, trying his damndest to be sneaky. "Do you have a shirt on?" She asked, one hand snapping out to grip Gilbert's wrist.

"Why do I have to listen to you? It's _my_ birthday! Can you not be a _complete_ bitch to me this one day?" Gilbert argued, trying to pull his hand free from the Hungarian death grip of doom. Elizaveta considered this for a while and seeing one of Gilbert's discarded dress shirts on the floor in front of the couch wiped the possibility of letting the albino go about his business shirtless from her mind.

No matter _how_ good the view was. Wait, what?

'_No! Snap out of it!' _Elizaveta thought furiously, _'Prussia's chest is __**not**__ nice to look at. He's not hot, or sexy, or awesome, or any of those stupid words he uses to feed his damn ego.' _The Hungarian disguised her internal conflict by letting go of the albino's wrist and bending forward to pick up the discarded shirt, throwing it into Gilbert's face.

"Stop being such a baby." The Hungarian said crisply, moving the present to sit comfortably in her lap. From behind her she could hear the Prussian grumbling to himself about crazy Hungarians who had no taste. How, _of course,_ said tasteless Hungarian couldn't stop being a mega bitch on this day, and several other things Elizaveta couldn't catch.

"Okay, I have a shirt on. Are you happy now, _princess_?" Gilbert asked, hopping over the back of the couch and landing on the cushion next to Elizaveta, the springs of the couch squealing in protest. Elizaveta's hands itched for her frying pan but, out of consideration, she had left it at home. Did the albino moron appreciate that fact? No, of course he didn't.

"Take your present and shut up before I _hit_ you." The sandy-brunette warned poisonously, giving Gilbert a look that said that she was _completely_ serious with that threat. Interestingly enough, the silverette didn't say anything else as he unwrapped his gift. Ah, satisfaction was such a sweet feeling~

"You got me a coat?" Gilbert asked as he looked down at the neatly folded Prussian blue material in the box. He turned to his companion and raised a silvery brow, "seriously? You couldn't think of anything more original?"

"Excuse me for not getting you an entire case of various beers from around Germany." Elizaveta snorted, brushing some hair from her eyes. "I got you something _practical_, January is a cold month and yet you romp around in that old dress shirt, in the _snow._" Elizaveta explained exasperatedly. "Aren't you the one who always says that you hate the cold?"

"I do. But I'm awesome enough to handle it!" The albino proclaimed proudly, grinning widely. Elizaveta's palm was then introduced to her hand with a groan. After a while Prussia spoke again: "So… while you're here, you mind if I ask for something else?" The Hungarian lifted her head from her hand and looked at the Prussian quizzically as she straightened herself out into a proper sitting position.

"If you must. What is it?" She asked. There was a moment of silence between the two as Gilbert set the gift on the coffee table in front of them. Elizaveta swore she saw a light tinge of _pink_ to his cheeks, but that wasn't possible, was it? Prussia was always the one who said he was too awesome to blush; not that she ever believed anything he said that pertained to how "awesome" he was.

"Close your eyes," Gilbert began steadily, pivoting his body on the couch to face the Hungarian.

"Why?"

"Stop being so fucking difficult and do it." Elizaveta figured that whatever Gilbert was planning wouldn't be _too_ terrible. Unless his master plan was to fondle her breasts _again,_ (this wasn't counting that incident when they were kids; Gilbert had groped the Hungarian's chest more times than she cared to remember. Of course, all these incidents ending with the albino having a slight concussion and a swift kick to the vital regions) but if that was his plan he would have done it from the get-go. Deciding that she could handle anything and everything the Prussian tried, Elizaveta closed her eyes.

Soon after, she felt hands on her shoulders, warm hands that were slowly turning her body to face the only other person in the room's. She was suddenly aware that Gilbert's breathing had come much closer; she could feel the warm air on her face, carrying the faint scent of pancakes drowned in maple syrup and beer. She hardly had any time to really consider this before she felt lips on her own. Soft and hesitant, and so much warmer than Elizaveta had ever imagined Gilbert's lips to be. Maybe she had made a physical move that indicated that she was enjoying the action, because an arm slipped around her shoulders, bringing her forward to deepen the kiss while the other rested on her hip.

Elizaveta's mind was screaming at her to stop. Her heart was telling her to continue. This was _Prussia _she was letting kiss her, _Gilbert fucking Beilschmidt! _She hated him right? …Right?

Supposed hatred or not, Elizaveta felt herself being pushed back onto the cushions, the faintest hints of a tongue tapped her lips, asking for entrance. The need for air overrode the pleasure she felt from the muscle prodding at her lips, trying to tempt them open, caused Elizaveta put her hands on Gilbert's chest and push him away was lost to the Hungarian's garbled mind. In the end, they both found themselves gasping for breath in a pretty compromising situation: Elizaveta completely lying down with Gilbert holding himself up and supporting some of his weight on the knee between her thighs. The fact that Gilbert's shirt had the top three buttons undone didn't help the scene any, either.

"…Sorry," Gilbert said quietly, _far_ too quiet for the ordinarily criminally loud man. He rose back up to a sitting position, trying to ignore the very obvious problem in his trousers. Elizaveta noticed this problem, not that she was _looking_, she couldn't help but to just happen to face in that area as she sat back up.

"It's no problem, forget about it." Elizaveta responded, busing herself with straightening out her clothes. She was surprised that Gilbert didn't go any further then he did, being the sex-crazed man that he was. Elizaveta cleared her throat, trying to slow the rapid pace of her heart and cool the heat that had pooled in her sweet spot. There was no ignoring the sexual tension in the air that hung over the two like a wet blanket however, no matter how much the two occupants of the house tried to. But spontaneous birthday sex just didn't sit well with them.

"I should go…" Elizaveta said finally, standing up and brushing off the front of her shirt. "Gilbert," she began, walking to standing in front of the albino, "Boldog születésnapot." She said with a brief kiss to the albino's forehead.

"…That's a way too fucking long way to say 'Happy Birthday'." Gilbert responded with a small smirk, Elizaveta rolled her eyes and hit the albino lightly in the arm.

"And _'Alles Gute zum Geburtstag' _isn't?"

"Touché."

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**Well, that was fun. I was considering having Germany walk in on them, but I figured that would ruin the flow of the story. I hope you all liked~!**


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